Map the Soul
by loveischerrie
Summary: AU. Kinomoto Sakura did not think trying to kill one's self would be so difficult. Li Syaoran did not think that figuring out why one wants to live would be so difficult. Neither thought that their love would be so peculiar.
1. Chapter 1

_**Map the Soul**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**a/n: **__this is a new sort of story. Hopefully, it will be a good read, and be a bit different from what is out there in the fanfic world_

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Kinomoto Sakura did not think that killing one's self would be so difficult.

But we shall get to her a little later.

While Sakura is a very important character in this tale, this is all about a certain man. He is named Li Xiao Lang, but was often called Syaoran when he moved to Japan. Syaoran was a peculiar sort of man with a strange love of being right, and a fondness for being perceived as a rough "bad boy" character. Throughout his life, he prided himself on two things: one was that he read people very well and two, that he was not afraid of the dead.

Syaoran was immune to the fear of cadavers that make many squeamish due to his family's profession. Syaoran came from a very rich family, one that ran a sort of funeral home for the recently dead. When a funeral was in need, one went to the Li family. When a body needed to be stored until its cremation, it was left with the Li family. When he was young, Syaoran used to charge his classmates money to see a dead body, often time watching them scream from terror at first sight.

It was a shame that this was his family's job because it certainly affected him. Syaoran was always very handsome, with chiseled features and possessed athletic abilities that allowed his body to grow into a muscular one. He was also always very bright. However, he grew up much more cynical, and with a much more pessimistic view of things. In one day he managed to ostracize himself from his high school class because of this. When his homeroom teacher told them all of her deathly ill husband, the whole class cried in sympathy with her. Syaoran, however...

"Teacher, make sure to use my family services when your husband finally passes on."

Well, he did not cry like the others.

It could not be helped. Syaoran never cried. Even when his grandparents that he loved died, he did not cry, but only watched his parents and sisters and just about everyone else cry.

All in all, he was a very peculiar child.

When high school ended, one of his elder sisters married a man who was decided to take over his family's business. That meant that Syaoran was free to do whatever he felt like doing. Already promised with a fortune that was set aside especially for him, Syaoran decided to take up photography. The idea was new to his family, but he once saw the funeral of a very prominent photographer, and found that the man lived a very interesting life. So it was with this adventurous mindset that Syaoran's family bought him a very expensive camera, and he went off to see the world.

Along the way, he took very important pictures that moved others. Ironically, he excelled best at taking pictures of those nearing death. Soldiers dying from war wounds, children dying from starvation...those were the pictures he did best with.

However, somewhere along his journey, something had stopped him, and he took up an offer in Japan. He moved there, rented a huge and luxurious apartment, and took pictures of fashion models. At age twenty-five, he became one of the best fashion photographers. Famed for being able to read the models well and bring out their deepest emotions onto a photograph, Syaoran felt confident that his ability in reading people would make living life very simple.

It was not until he met Sakura that his very foundation was shaken.

* * *

Now Syaoran has always been strange, but Sakura was downright "out of the ordinary." There is not much known about her, except that Sakura also came from a wealthy upbringing, and that she loved to paint and draw. Most everything else known about her were rumors, drawn up from speculations and observations.

However, there is one more fact about Sakura. She was a girl who tried to kill herself over 100 times.

The first time was when she was three. The other times followed right after as she grew older. Her father was always very frantic, and finally sent her to a psychologist when she turned eighteen.

Her psychologist was no one other than Hiragizawa Eriol, who coincidentally, was Syaoran's roommate. For nearly two years, Eriol had seen to Sakura and her problems. She was his first serious client. Finally, at age twenty-seven, Eriol had come up with an idea. One that would most likely break his friend.

But he had faith that somehow, it would all work out.

* * *

Syaoran was twenty seven when he slept with top model Daidouji Tomoyo. He slept with her out of a habit, having obtained a "bad boy" label. She slept with him to forget a past lover. Neither were serious, neither disappointed.

"I wonder if one day, you will be able to feel your heart connect with your body," she told him as they were getting dressed.

"What do you mean?" he asked her. She turned her pretty head toward him, looking at him from an amethyst colored eye.

"The soul reacts to sex, you know." She smiled in a way that gave the impression she was holding onto a secret.

"Ha, you want me to fall in love with you?"Syaoran rolled his eyes at the thought.

"Goodness, no!" She flashed him her ring. "I'm married, after all."

"Such a good wife, your husband has."

She glared a bit, but let his comment slide. "I wonder when I will feel my soul react to another's. Such a feeling is almost like a luxury to me."

"Fantastic princess, but I don't believe in such things like soul. Everything dies, nothing is left from the human. Trust me, I've seen enough dead bodies to know."

It was silent for a long time. Finally, that pretty model turned to him and said just one thing that he did not take as seriously as he was supposed to.

"I feel so sorry for you."

What did she need to feel sorry for him for? His life was just fine. He didn't mind living life by cruising on whatever came about.

That was all he could ever want.

* * *

Syaoran was twenty seven years old when he met nineteen year old Sakura. She was walking steadily behind his friend as he was unlocking the door to his apartment. Eriol had lived with Syaoran for nearly two years and for that long, Eriol never brought his work home. But here was this girl with short auburn hair following him around the kitchen like a baby chick.

"Hey," Syaoran greeted. "You do realize there is a person following you, right?"

"Welcome back, and yes. Sakura-chan, this is my roommate, Li Syaoran. He's not too important, so feel free to call him Syaoran," he introduced his friend to the girl. Syaoran scoffed.

"Hilarious. But seriously, you can call me Syaoran," he assured her.

She said nothing but nodded. Syaoran could sense something familiar but odd in her. If she was not so peculiar, she would be considered a beauty. She was a small thing, but she had beautiful green eyes, but they were full of mysterious that almost tempted him. Her mouth was small, but her lips were thick enough in proportion to her face. But Syaoran, who was used to gorgeous models, was not at all affected by her outer appearance.

"Great conversationalists," Syaoran commented. Eriol smiled.

"She's one of my patients. She's a special girl, and her special needs have required her to stay here for the time being. She'll be staying in the guest room. Her father has agreed to pay some of the rent, along with her food and other needs."

"Oh," Syaoran nodded in comprehension. "Welcome to our home."

Still, the girl said nothing. She was different, he gave her that much.

"So what's this girl's deal?" Syaoran asked, deciding to help set the table.

"She wants to die," Eriol said as he sat her down. Syaoran looked at her again, that familiar sense hit him...

"Why do you want to die?" he asked her.

"Why do you want to live?" Those were her first words to him.

He laughed. "Fair enough."

"Sakura did promise me to not kill herself until her twentieth birthday. So I bought us some time, isn't that right Sakura-chan?"

As Sakura bit into her spaghetti (quite unladylike, Syaoran noted), she nodded. Syaoran just smirked, thinking of the interesting emotions she can produce when in front of his camera, and after answering a few of his questions.

"So, Sakura-chan—can I call you that? I can? Good—why do you _have _to die?"

"I have to free my soul."

She was interesting, Syaoran gave her that much.

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**_ultra special blah blah blah_**: _i like ducks and penguins. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**Map the Soul**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_**a/n: **thanks to those who reviewed and added this story to their alerts and favs. It's still a little early to tell, but this fic won't be long. Maybe five or six chapters. It is in the same style or feel that my other fic, "My Girl's a Cyborg, but that's Okay."_

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For two days, Syaoran did not see much of Eriol or Sakura. He was working overtime, seeing models of all different races, sleeping with some that caught his fleeting and temporary interest, making his studio his temporary home. When he finally made it home, he saw that he was not particularly missed. Eriol was at work, tending to other patients, and trusted the girl enough to leave her alone. Syaoran found it to be eerie quiet, and was not certain that Sakura was going to kill herself now that she did not have supervision.

He peeked into her room and found her drawing in her large sketchpad. She was completely immersed in it, that she did not notice him come in and sit beside her on a stool. She and he assumed Eriol, managed to turn their guest room into a mini art studio. Some of her finished paintings were covered, but she in the midst of finishing another. He peered over her shoulder to find her almost done. She was drawing the picture of Tokyo Tower, based off a photograph that Eriol had taken last year during Christmas. The photograph was clipped to the corner, and he noticed she added the detail of his two fingers sticking out from the bottom of the photograph. Syaoran remembered those were his two fingers, making the peace sign.

It was then he noticed that she had drawn up many pictures, surrounding herself with finished sketches of photographs that he and Eriol took. Was this what she was doing this entire time?

"Hey, aren't you tired?" he asked her.

If she was surprised that he was there alongside her, she did not show it. Instead, she out down her recently finished peace and nodded. "Eriol-sensei wanted me to draw while I was alone."

"How come?"

She raised her hand, and her sleeves fell down slightly. Syaoran realized that her wrists and arms were covered in scars—her previous attempts to end her life. "He wanted my hands to be kept busy."

Ah, clever. So Eriol wanted to keep her from harming herself. Maybe he didn't trust her enough to keep her promise.

"So you plan on dying?" Syaoran asked her again, in a way that almost seemed casual. As if one were asking about a favorite color...

Sakura nodded. She had a very honest character. Her honesty went straight to the point. It was a nice change of pace from most women who liked to beat around the bush. Those women were Syaoran's least favorite type.

"Then why don't you spend some time with me before you cross over?" he requested with one of his dashing smiles, the kind he used when he wanted something out of a woman. Whether or not this worked with Sakura was unknown, for her face did not betray her. She merely shrugged and stood up to get her sweater. Syaoran grinned.

"By the way, I know of a great funeral business that has recently opened up branches in Japan. You know, for later."

* * *

He dressed her in a simple white, sleeveless dress that fell simply past her knees. She adorned no jewelry, no makeup, not even shoes. She was probably the simplest model to stand in front of his camera. It was almost amazing the way her face never changed expression—with eyes that seemed to look through a person, and a nonchalant manner of apathy.

He held up his camera, ready to fire away his questions and shutter.

"Why do you want to die?"

"Why do you want to live?" _Click._

"You want to free your soul?"

"Yes." _Click._

"You believe in souls?"

"Yes." _Click._

"Why do you believe in them?"

"I can see them." _Click._

Syaoran looked up, half smiling at her amusing answer. So she believed she saw souls? That was new. He wanted to pat himself on the back for obtaining such a fascinating subject to photograph. Fashion models were never this interesting.

"You see them?"

"Yes." _Click._

"You mean ghosts?"

"No. Souls." _Click._

Syaoran frowned. He was not a believer of such things. And anyway, she was not showing any other emotion than the indifference he had always seen.

"The human body doesn't leave anything when it dies. I've grown up with them around. I know this."

"You're wrong." _Click._

"You're telling me you see them? Is this all the time?"

"Yes." _Click._

"You honestly expect me to believe that, _right now, _there is a soul wandering around here?"

"Yes." Her eyes traveled above his head. Syaoran looked up and saw nothing. He wanted to kick himself for being so gullible. As if she could really see them.

"Why do you want to die?"

"Why do you want to live?"_ Click._

"Because you really don't want to free your soul, so you're lying."

"You're wrong."_Click._

"You must be doing it for artistic reasons, am I right?"

"You're wrong." _Click._

"No, I'm not. In fact, it's because you're not really cut out to be an artist. You can't live up to the expectations, and you haven't been able to sell a painting. Eriol told me that all your paintings are in your family's possession. You want to kill yourself so your work can have more worth."

"You're wrong." _Click. _

"No, I'm not. This whole lie of seeing souls is just your way of running away. You don't wish to complete life because of fear that you will not be able to live freely, in the way you want to. You are scared of the artistic world, you are scared of failure! Am I right?"

She didn't answer as readily as she did before. But when Syaoran was just starting to smirk in confidence that he finally cracked her, she parted her lips.

""You're wrong." _Click._

It took much willpower of the tale's hero to not smash his camera from the frustration he was feeling. He looked at that strange girl unable to figure her out. Was she for real? She hadn't moved from her position, not once. He turned away from her, feeling slightly angry. Maybe it was his pride that was getting hurt. He prided himself on being able to read people so well. But no, she had to be lying. After all, he was never wrong.

"Damn it, don't you ever show emotion?" he demanded. Sakura looked downcast then back up to meet his eyes. Her stomach rumbled.

"I'm hungry," She stated without a change of tone.

He could not help it. Syaoran let out a strong laugh. The amusement never ended with this girl. She was truly something else.

* * *

Eriol's most attractive patient, in his mind, was the beautiful Tomoyo-san. She was a model, and married to some CEO much, much older that her, who wanted an heir more than anything in the world. She was often unfaithful, and slept with many, many, many men. Finally, after some time, she diagnosed herself to be a sex addict and saw to it to see a psychiatrist. This is where Eriol came in.

Tomoyo had heard that he was rather brilliant for someone so young. And he was very good-looking. She was happy to not be disappointed.

"So, Tomoyo-san, what exactly is it about sex that requires you to constantly need it?" Eriol asked, holding on to a clipboard.

"Have you ever had sex, sensei? I imagine you have, so you can answer for me," she answered with a model smile, hiding a bit of mischief.

Eriol smiled as well, a bit taken aback at her spunky attitude. He was strongly attracted to her, there was no denying. But women like her, as Syaoran once told him, were very dangerous. Feisty and cute—one could truly be bewitched by such a woman.

"I don't have the need to bed every woman I meet, as you do with men. And let's not talk about me, Tomoyo-san. After all, you are paying me for helping you. Let's try another question. Is there some insecurity you have that you feel in order to feel satisfied, you must have sex?"

"Sensei, with all due respect, I happen to be a very successful model married to a very rich man. My entire childhood was pleasant, and I was raised with much love and care. I shall put an end to any theories of my having some sort of insecurity. That is not the source of my problem, I can assure you."

She stood up and walked about his office, studying his objects. He remained in his chair, taking down notes that were forbidden to her. That was fine; she did not care for his notes. She was after something else.

"Tomoyo-san, then why do you think you have a problem?"

"To be honest, I do not think I have a problem."

"I find that a bit difficult to accept, Tomoyo-san. You had told me you diagnosed yourself. You sought me to help you."

She heard him scribbling furiously. Her lips curved up in a smirk. "I was lying, Eriol-sensei."

"And why would you do that?" He looked at her, expecting as answer. She merely sauntered over to him, and crouched down about so that they were at equal eye level.

"You are...very intelligent, Eriol-sensei."

She removed his glasses, almost grinning in triumph when he licked his lips in anticipation, peering at her with hooded eyes.

"You are also...very good-looking, Eriol-sensei."

They both took each others' lips, and hands roamed all over their bodies. In the back of his mind, Eriol made a note to tell Syaoran he was right. As Tomoyo-san's dress fell down, and her hand was down his pants, he agreed that women like her were dangerous in deed.

* * *

_Won't be home tonight. Working late. Take care of Sakura-chan. –Eriol_

Syaoran closed his phone after reading his best friend's text message. He sighed. It was not that she was a lot of work, but he hated that he was currently being used as a babysitter. It was lucky for her that she was so interesting, or else he wouldn't have bothered. He turned around to see her finishing up her hamburger, as they leaned against the railing of the bridge above the river.

"I never understood why people mourn suicides. In my life, I have been to over twenty funerals for people who have killed themselves, and never got why people cried over them. I don't care about those who will to kill themselves," Syaoran explained to the girl. "If someone wants to kill themselves, then we should let them. Less space to waste."

Sakura did not comment on this, but instead finished her hamburger, childishly licking her fingers.

"But I have a hard time believing those who say they want to die, but have yet to do it. You really want to die?"

She nodded, almost smiling. He did not know it, but she found him to be _fascinating_.

"Then do it, right here, right now." He pointed to the slow moving water below them. "Jump."

She shook her head. "I can't. I promised Eriol-sensei."

Syaoran just scoffed. "No, it's because you are like every woman in the world: a liar. I've met many women, and all of them say one thing, but mean another. You may be slightly more interesting, but you are still like any female."

For the first time, Sakura narrowed her eyes. "I am not a liar."

"Sure you are. You hide behind the lie that you see souls as your reason to...Oy!"

He saw her quickly jump below. Looking down at the water, he never saw her come up.

He jumped after her.

* * *

"Do you feel that, sensei?"

"A connecting of souls."

* * *

"I told you I'm not a liar." This was probably her 500th time telling him so.

"I know." He was wiping her face, covering her in towels. He carried her home, both soaking wet. Eriol would have his head, for nearly drowning his patient. He noted to be more careful about her in the future. In her own way, he figure out that Sakura was quite dangerous.

"I'm not."

"Okay, okay." He smiled a bit more warmly at her. She was like a child, in a way. So he was wrong and right about one thing. She was much different than most women. She had an honest character, one that did not beat around the bush. It was such a shame she was going to die.

"Hey, Eriol won't be coming home tonight. Since you're going to die anyway, why don't you let me have you," he said in a husky voice, his pupils growing bigger in interest. She looked at him without a hint of shock. Finally, he just laughed. "I'm kidding."

"Sure."

* * *

Syaoran stayed awake for awhile, Sakura's small naked body beside him, sleeping peacefully. It was strange, but something inside him stirred, like a hurricane preparing itself to unleash a storm upon an unsuspecting town. Finally, he decided to forget about whatever was making him uneasy, and slept beside a woman for the first time in his life.

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**_Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah: _**_I never understand what I am writing about, haha. I feel like this fic may get confusing. It's actually a lot more deeper than I am. _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Map the Soul**_

_**Chapter Three**_

_**a/n: **__I want to thank all the reviewers. I am trying to write a variety of fics. Every once in awhile, I try to write one that is more off beat. So thank you for the appreciation! Enjoy this chapter in all it's unbeta'd glory. I will reedit it soon if it is problematic to read.  
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When he woke up, Sakura was still in a deep sleep, and Syaoran had to hold his finger under her nose to make sure she was breathing. Truth be told, he was uncomfortable. This was the first time he woke up to a woman beside him, and he did not know the protocol on what to do. Does he wait for her to wake up? Does he wait for her to shower before he does? Do they go out to eat together then? He only thinks about this because he is hungry. Finally, when he decides that this girl is never going to wake up, and the idea of a shower sounds really nice, so he gets up and leaves her on his bed. After a shower and a quick breakfast, he realizes all the work he has to do, and leaves the empty apartment.

It was strange, but the thought of leaving her alone seemed...painful? No, not painful, but strange, nonetheless. He shrugged it off.

She was going to be fine. He was sure about it.

But for some reason, he did not like being away from her.

* * *

He was going to stay the hell away from her. That girl was not normal.

"Of course she is not normal, Syaoran. You've known this from day one." Eriol was exasperated, sitting behind his desk while his roommate was on his patient's couch in the fetal position. Syaoran came in directly from work, hair askew, and clothes wrinkled, as if he were in a hurry to leave. His eyes were wide and frantic while his arms occasionally slashed the air, as if he were paranoid that something was going to attack him.

"You don't understand. That girl is _weird_. She is surrounded by something other worldly," Syaoran explained, looking at the space above him as if expecting something. Eriol just rolled his eyes.

"She is surrounded by the need to die, something you should be familiar with after all," Eriol just commented, looking over Tomoyo-san's file. Inside him, he was fighting something strong, like the guilt that he just helped a woman commit adultery, that he hindered his patient from recovery, that he took advantage of a patient, and that he just did everything he was against as a doctor. But the other side was unabashedly happy that he did not know what to do. He was also scared, because that woman had bewitched him strongly than anyone had ever done before.

Syaoran shook his head. "Dead people, I can deal with. Lifeless corpses are fine. I could even sleep if one is in the room. But that girl...look in the envelope." He pointed at the manila envelope on the table in front of him. Eriol hesitated at first, but then decided to humor his friend. It was rare that Syaoran was so freaked out about anything really. For as long as Eriol had known him, Syaoran always kept a cool, nonchalant attitude. This panic attack, while amusing, was best to be treated delicately. After retrieving the manila envelope, he opened it and took out the pictures inside. Eriol laughed.

"Not funny!" Syaoran yelled hotly, but Eriol was already holding his sides.

"_This _is what you're scared about?" Eriol showed the pictures in his hand. Syaoran turned his eyes away. In Eriol's hands were pictures from Sakura's photo shoot with Syaoran. They were gorgeous, and her peculiar beauty seemed to shine. There was one curious thing about them. In every single shot, there was a white ball in the middle of Sakura, as if there were something there...

"She can see them! She really can! I didn't even...I can't seem to....AND I SLEPT WITH HER!" Syaoran buried his face in his hands. Eriol looked much more interested in that bit. He quickly grabbed a notepad and pen.

"You slept with her?"

"Yes, last night. That was a mistake. There was something off about it all, and I should have never doubted that."

"Now, what exactly did you feel?"

Syaoran did not answer but glared instead. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"That! Talking to me like I'm your patient; I'm your friend."

Eriol frowned. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should...I've been doing inappropriate things lately."

With this bit, Syaoran smirked. "Oh really? So why were not home yesterday?"

"That's not important," Eriol flushed. "What is important here is _you_. So, you're scared of souls? I find that to be pretty hard to believe."

"Well...it freaks me out." Syaoran sunk into his seat.

"But not for you to be this upset. I've treated phobias with less of a reaction than this," Eriol stated. "This deals with something else, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Syaoran sunk in lower. "Yeah, it does."

* * *

Tomoyo-san's husband was a nice man, a bit older than her, but nice. He ran a huge company, and was very good with business. He had an eye for such. He also had an eye for women. When Tomoyo was doing a runway show in Shanghai, he was there in the front, waiting to make his move. In truth, Tomoyo was not going to marry him, even if he was rich. But somewhere along the way, she fell in love with the safety he provided. He was stable, and had a career, unlike her previous lover, an artist who overdosed on drugs. She figured that if she was going to marry anyone in this world, it might as well be with someone who was going to care for her. Love was in the past, and a luxury that was no longer for her.

She was faithful for the first few years, but when her husband pressured her for a child, something had changed. All of a sudden, she could stop finding men to sleep with, wanting to fill a chasm in her heart. And something else as well.

"How is everything fairing, darling?" her husband asked during dinner whilst drinking his wine. Tomoyo just drank her iced tea, non-alcoholic.

"Just fine, dear. Everything has finally happened according to plan."

Of all the men she slept with, Eriol-sensei was her favorite.

_Are you free tonight? Maybe we could have dinner?-Eriol_

He was the type to call back.

_I've already had dinner. But I would like some dessert. ;)-Tomoyo_

She was that clichéd adulteresses. But as long as she was having fun—more so than she' had in a long, long time, she mused, sadly—then clichés be damned.

"Dear, I won't be coming home tonight," Tomoyo announced to her husband.

"I would not expect you to, darling." Her husband smiled. "I won't be home tonight either. Business calls."

"Likewise, dear. Likewise."

* * *

When he was in his room, Sakura kept knocking on his door, not saying a word, but instead just grunting her displeasure. Eriol was at the office again, leaving Syaoran alone with her.

It's not that he wanted to hurt her feelings or anything, but he just didn't want to face her at the moment. It was a bit overwhelming, but mostly, it was his cowardice that made it hard for him to talk to her. She was persistent though, and the knocking continued. Finally, there was a commotion outside and Syaoran rushed out of his room, scared that she had hurt herself. Scared? Was he scared? No, he was concerned. It was natural to be concerned over the welfare of another human being.

"Sakura!" he cried out. She was standing in the middle of the hallway, a man grabbing her by the arm. He was quite taller, taller than Syaoran, with messy black hair and hard brown eyes. Syaoran glared back at this man, walked up to him, and took Sakura away from him.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked with a snarl. Sakura wriggled free from his own grasp.

"Brat, I should ask you the same," the man growled back. He was intimidating, but Syaoran did not back down.

"This is my home—you're the uninvited."

The man's eyes widened. He turned to Sakura and cried out, "You're living with guys?!"

Sakura just looked at Syaoran, then to the man and nodded. Syaoran just scoffed.

"What's it to you? Leave."

"Like hell I will! Sakura, we're leaving!"

Was this man her boyfriend or her colleague? He also carried a sketchbook in his other arm. It did not matter. What mattered was that this guy was holding on to her arm in a vice grip and dragging that small but weird girl away from him.

So Syaoran wrenched her arm from his and placed her behind him, shielding her.

"Onii-chan, he's a model..."came the quiet voice behind Syaoran. Syaoran spun around, eyes wide in surprise.

"Onii-chan?!"

"Model?"

* * *

"When you said dessert, I didn't think you meant _this_. I thought you wanted cake or ice-cream."

"Sensei, are you such an innocent?"

"No, Tomoyo-san. It's just...this is a bit embarrassing, but to me, you're not just for sex."

"Oh sensei, you truly are my favorite."

* * *

Syaoran had never been naked in front of a man.

Hell, Syaoran had never been naked in front of a woman, and not been doing his...thing. But lo and behold, he was naked in front of a man and woman, and not in the process of having sex. Right now, he was in the process of holding still in the middle of a complicated pose while Sakura drew a sketch of him, and her brother supervised. Oh, that was the most infuriating part. That this man was her older brother, Touya, and not some abusive boyfriend like he had thought. Syaoran felt he go worked up for nothing, and his punishment was this: standing naked in front of this man who he did not know, was not on good terms with, and could possibly castrate him here and now should he find out that he deflowered his precious, younger sister.

"Sakura, do you need more pastels?" her brother asked, making a list of supplies she needed. She barely heard him, so engrossed in her work. With a small smile—that seemed more natural than Syaoran had ever seen her make, not that it made him envious or anything—she nodded.

Touya went on complaining after finishing his list. "I cannot believe our father. Is he really just a model? Nothing more?"

Sakura was too honest of a person, but even she had enough sense that the truth would be a bit too much for her brother. Syaoran could have sighed in relief when she said nothing. Sure, she did not deny, but at least she did not confirm anything.

When everything was done, Touya had suggested to Sakura to take a shower and sleep. She was dirty from all the smudging and charcoal, and it was dark. Unable to refuse her brother here, she complied. Syaoran just went to get dressed, aware that he was being scrutinized.

"I don't believe for a second that you're an art model."

"That's because I'm not, I'm a photographer. A different sort of artist than your sister."

"Ha!" Touya laughed mockingly. "An artist? Are you comparing yourself to Sakura?"

Syaoran just grimaced. "I'm Li Syaoran. Maybe you've heard a bit about me."

"Ah, so you're a professional," Touya noted. "I've heard of you, but I still stand by my opinion—you don't hold a candle to Sakura."

"Look, I understand you must be worried about her, but why are you even here? To insult me?" Syaoran asked finally at his limit, irritated beyond relief.

"No, I came to bring another sketchbook and pencils." Touya looked solemn that Syaoran almost felt bad for him. "It's important that she be drawing as much as possible."

"Why? Even artists need a break sometimes..."

"You don't know what is going on here!" Touya snapped. "You have to know by now that Sakura wants to die! She tries to as often as possible. All her life, my father and I have been monitoring her, stopping her...she is so focused on that! But when she's drawing...it's the only time she's not thinking about harming herself."

Syaoran swallowed hard. While he was concerned about her, Touya, the one who's been with her nearly all her life, who's loved her all her life, must be sick with worry. "Why does she want to free her soul?"

Touya just smiled. "Our mother died when she was three. Since then, she says that our mother's soul is lonely. All souls who leave the world early are lonely, she says. And she feels that if she remains on this Earth, she will never be truly fulfilling her soul's purpose."

"But doesn't she care about what you and your family will feel?"

"She does, but she says that our souls have things to do here. Hers does not. She is convinced. I don't understand it myself, but I know she sees things that no one else can. Our father may not want to admit it, but how else can she paint them."

"What do you mean?"

Touya just turned around and uncovered some of the paintings that were in Sakura's room.

They were beautiful.

Heart-wrenching, haunting, truthful...souls.

Touya was right, Sakura was an artist, and he could not compare.

When Sakura came in, Syaoran left the room.

Not only was he wrong, but he was being broken.

By her.

* * *

**_Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah: _**_actually, this chapter is a bit weird. kinda hard to understand fully. but in the next two chapters, things will be made clearer. I am pretty sure that this fic will be 6 chapters only. The updates are kinda close, but with school starting for me again soon, that might not happen, haha. I also have other fics to pay attention to...aah~ such is the life of a writer =D_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Map the Soul**_

_**Chapter Four**_

_**a/n: **__::skips merrily in the meadow:: "I LOVE MY REVIEWERS!"_

_Okay, that is all. Happy reading. By the way, this chapter is dialogue heavy. And there will be SIX chapters  
_

_

* * *

  
_

Even though for about a week, Syaoran had been in the studio, he had not been able to work. All the pictures he had taken were crap, and despite the objections from magazine editors and advertising managers, he hadn't revealed them. He requested a year off, a sabbatical of sorts. He originally was not going to, but after his assistant had come in earlier apologizing for ruining the lens of his camera (which, obviously, produced curious shots. It was one of his favorite cameras too, and coincidentally used it when he was with Sakura. Eriol had another laughing fit. "You're a _professional_! How could not tell it was a lighting mishap?! Do you mean to tell me that you _really _thought you captured something supernatural?!"), Syaoran decided he needed time off to deal with what was going on in his mind.

Back at the apartment, as he was drinking alone at the table, Sakura sat next to him. He didn't bother to acknowledge her, and she didn't bother to care. She stared at him with those large green eyes, occasionally poking him to get his attention. Briefly, he would look at her, and she would smile at him. Then he would go back to drinking his sake.

After about four hours of this (and why the hell were they always alone? Where was Eriol?), even she got frustrated and decided to try to force his shirt over his head. He laughed, a little bit tipsy.

"What's this? Have I turned you into a sexual being?"

She shook her head, but still tried to remove his shirt. He stood up, picked her up bridal style, and then made his way to his room. After unceremoniously dropping her on his bed, he crawled on top of her.

"If not, then why do you want to sleep with me so bad?" he asked with a smirk.

"I like you," she answered without shame.

Syaoran just laughed, and rolled off her, lying beside her as they stared at his ceiling. "Why is that? Is it because I am so good-looking?"

"You're wrong. You are not so good-looking."

"Is that right?"

"I've seen better looking men than you."

"How nice to have such high standards."

"I like you, but I must be objective."

"You've never liked someone before; have you, Sakura-chan?"

"No."

"Liking someone doesn't mean you have to sleep with them."

"But that was fun. And I will die soon. Let's enjoy it."

He turned to look at her. "Must you really die?"

"Yes."

"Why do you want to die?"

"Why do you want to live?"

"I honestly don't know."

Sakura looked back at him. This was the first time someone had answered her.

"I could not face you before because it was the first time someone has been able to prove to me that I was wrong. I could not face you because I had been able to read people—women especially—so well before, but I cannot even begin to fathom as to how your mind works. I could not face you because you remind me of the mistakes I have made in life. But I could not face you, because your talent is astounding. You an artist, something I want to be, but am too afraid to pursue."

He rolled off the bed, and looked under, pulling out a black box that he tried to not look at often. He handed it to her, motioning her to open it. She complied and pulled out photos, impressed as she shyly smiled while viewing them.

"I was in third world countries for these. I wanted to take pictures of death. Of sorrow. I was good. Then I was in Cambodia, taking pictures of child sex slaves. Somehow, I got dragged into a fight, and my colleague was killed right in front of me. He was dead, but that didn't bother me. What bothered me was seeing his death before my eyes, because that could have been me. I got so scared, that I left and came here. Now look at me, I live such a comfortable life, don't I?"

He fell back down on the bed.

"Isn't it cruelly ironic; that a man who has grown up with the dead be terrified of dying? I want to live, but I don't even know why."

"I feel so sorry for you."

Sakura was looking at him with indifference; it was hard to believe that she pitied him. However, he knew her to be a person who did not lie, and whose bluntness was not to be doubted, no matter how insensitive it may have been. "Why? Why do you feel so sorry for me?"

"You are alive, but not existing... That is pitiful."

"Says the girl who wants to die."

"...Says the man who is scared to die."

* * *

After weeks of being with Tomoyo-san, Eriol was caught. Both were in the throes of passion when a strict looking older man had walked in and seen them in bed together. He was bowing to the man while in his underwear, Tomoyo on the bed wearing a robe, just looking and the sensitive sensei prostrating to her husband who was looking intimidating and amused at the same time.

"So, Hiragizawa-sensei, you are the man who has been sleeping with my wife," the man said in a grave voice. He didn't say it to scare Eriol, but the eerie calmness was what freaked Eriol out most.

"Forgive me, sir. I know what I did was immoral and I am ready to accept whatever responsibility and punishment you want. I know nothing can undo the damage and the sin I have committed, but I wish to repent for my dishonoring you."

"You were right, darling. He is very polite," the man smiled at the pretty model. Tomoyo smiled in return.

"I told you."

Eriol looked up, confused beyond words. "Pardon?"

"Sensei, my wife has told me all about you. And the others she has slept with, though I must say, you've lasted the longest."

Tomoyo grinned at Eriol and waved her fingers. Eriol stood up, unsure of what was being told to him. "You know of her infidelity?"

"Why, yes. I support it. I think you are the most suitable. I am so sorry for interrupting, but I had forgotten important documents, and needed to rush home immediately. But feel free to continue what I walked into."

Tomoyo handed him a folder, and he pecked her on the cheek. "You coming home tonight, dear?"

"No, so the good sensei can stay over tonight."

Eriol remained speechless. His intelligent mind could not wrap around the situation. The man suddenly placed his hand on his shoulder, and very seriously said, "Please make sure to give my wife a child."

Eriol was still speechless (and half naked) after the man had left, even after thirty minutes.

"Tomoyo-san, but you're barren."

Tomoyo just took a sip from her red wine. "I know. Pitiful, isn't it, sensei?"

* * *

"If I asked you not to die, would you listen?"

"Everyone dies sometime...Syaoran."

* * *

"Are you falling for her?"

"Don't be stupid. She's like a pet."

"Bullshit."

"How's your patient?"

"Shut up."

* * *

As the month was coming to a close, on March 31st, Syaoran had a private countdown in this head. When he woke up that morning, he went into her room, finding her painting something new. She didn't reveal her work before completion, so he was not sure what she was expressing this time. Perhaps, he mused, it was for the best. He didn't want to freak out like before. She noticed him, and cocked her head to the side in question. He strode to her, and hoisted her up from her sitting position.

"Here's how it's going to work: one, you will not talk about souls at all. Two, if you happen to see one floating around, _don't tell me_. Three, you will _talk _so that we can have conversations."

"Sure."

* * *

There are certain things Syaoran learned about Sakura.

One: was that she had absolutely no manners. "What are you, five? Use a fork."

"It's easier..."

"Just, here."

"Then feed me yourself."

"Oh, you're a bit sly, aren't you?"

Two: her smile was a little too cute for his liking.

Three: she liked being pushed when on the swings.

Four: she could not think less about him, even if he was a coward.

"I think...I'm more peculiar."

Five: she was cute and feisty in her own way. Which made her very dangerous.

When it neared midnight, they stopped near a convenient store where they just leaned against the wall behind them. Sakura was gulping down a large smoothie that he bought her. For someone so small, she ate more than her own weight.

"I bought you a present."

She turned her face to him. He pulled out a velvet box and opened it for her. It was a bracelet with a charm in the shape of wings, the little dangling heart in the middle jingles like a bell. He fastened it around her wrist when she held it out for him. Sakura admired it and gave him a thankful smile. He grinned happily.

"I thought it over. For nearly twenty years, people have been trying to get you to stop yourself from committing suicide. I don't mourn for those who commit suicide. So I won't stop you from dying, but can you do me a favor? Can you die after I die? I don't know what I will do after you die, so can you just die after me?"

It was the closest thing to a confession that he has ever given in his life, and he was more nervous and scared than he had ever been.

"Sure."

When it turned eleven fifty-eight, the store they were by was robbed. When the culprit ran out, he panicked and fired off his gun.

Syaoran remembered that he was shoved out of the way.

And Sakura lay on the cold ground, bleeding from the head.

At mindnight, on April first. Dead.

* * *

_**Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah: **Oh, I am so evil._

_I hope you all stick around for the other two chapters!  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Map the Soul**_

_**Chapter Five**_

_**a/n: **__I would have updated much sooner, but real life came and kicked my ass. It's okay, because I am putting up a good fight._

_The next chapter, not this one, will be the last._

_By the way, my reviewers, all of you, are so freaking awesome~ I wish I could give you all flowers and candy! And a Syaoran plushie!_

_

* * *

_

Syaoran did not go to the funeral. He knew Eriol must have because he didn't see him much. Syaoran did not do much of anything. He sat on his couch these days, unable to will himself from his stupor. At one point, he felt his chin and realized he had stubble, but did not bother to even give it much thought. Who cared what he looked like? Who cared if he ate? She was gone.

"You look real pathetic right now." It was a very familiar voice that he smiled, despite of himself.

"What is this? You're actually talking out of your own volition." He smiled so hard, his muscles hurt. But she was there, sitting beside him, looking very tired, but very much alive. "Figures you would after being dead. Tell me, was it all you've ever dreamed of? No, I am not being bitter. Well, just a little."

"You are not even doing anything," she stated, looking at him with deep concern, as if he were the one to fade away.

"What am I supposed to do? You died, remember? After I even asked you not to...you really are a cruel woman."

"You have to wake up, Syaoran. If not, I cannot talk to you anymore..."

She was being very evilly honest as her form was fading away. He reached out a hand to her and quickly rose from his spot. "No, I'll get up, but just don't go!"

But she wasn't listening. "Syaoran, wake up."

But she was gone.

* * *

He dreamt of her often. She often swam through space, with her artistic creations following after her.

He tried swimming with her, but his legs were heavier than lead.

She was this beautiful sunrise, and he was nothing more than a cloud who disappeared when getting near her.

* * *

He walked the streets, looking for her. He was often alone, as the outside was empty. No, maybe he just didn't care to see anyone else.

Sakura stood in front of him, her small hand trying to trace his face, as if she were committing it to her memory. He tried to do the same with her, but his hands lost all feelings. Yet, his face was warm after her touch.

"I want you to live more than anything," she told him very sadly. He laughed.

"I wanted the same for you, but you did not listen."

"Syaoran, wake up."

And then she disappeared.

* * *

He heard Eriol talking to him through his door when he tried to sleep. He told him about the patient whom he was seeing.

"I actually know her, Eriol. Believe it or not, I slept with her," Syaoran told him through his door.

"She told me she's slept with you. Funny enough, it doesn't bother me as much as you'd think it would," Eriol replied back. Syaoran was a bit annoyed.

"I just told you that. Way to be a good listener."

"I think I love her. I really do. It's bad isn't it, to fall in love with a patient?"

"Better than being in love with a dead girl."

"Listen, Syaoran...this is going to sound odd and knowing you, you'll make fun of me for it, but I want to say...I miss you. So come back."

"But I'm right here."

But Eriol just sighed and left.

* * *

Sakura's brother came to visit him as well. Syaoran heard him, oddly enough, while he was in the bathroom. He came and only said two words.

"Thank you."

It was the most cryptic message he'd ever received.

But then again, the guy was Sakura's brother after all, he mused.

* * *

It was almost a joke that Sakura talked on and on. She talked about her day, she talked about the people around them, but revealed very little about herself. Syaoran did not care, because he just listened to her go on and on. Sometimes he tried to tell her things. Things like how much he missed her, how much he loved her, and how he wished they could travel the world together, taking pictures and painting all the beautifully morbid things they could see. He tried to tell her all these things, but sometimes, it was if she did not hear him.

"When will you live again?" she asked him after she finished telling him about Eriol and Tomoyo. Apparently, she was to divorce.

"When will you come back to me?" he asked her. He felt the tears falling down his face, but it did not matter if she found him weak because of them.

Her eyes widened, and she smiled a very weak smile. Though she spoke earnestly and full of this strange energy, she continued to look hazard. It was as if he were watching her die again. "I'm always here, Syaoran."

"Then why would I want to live. As long as I have you, I'll take death. I'm no longer afraid of dying."

"If you die, I will never forgive you."

He sighed very heavily. "You're so hypocritical, you know that? I sometimes wonder why I love you so much."

"I love you, Syaoran."

It was the first time she ever told him, and he was not even positive it was even real. He wanted to hug her, but her body remained evanescent.

"I wish you would just wake up."

"And I wish you were alive."

* * *

"She's adorable really. If I was able to have children, I would wish for a girl like Sakura."

"She's amazing, isn't she? I'm glad you don't find her weird," Syaoran smiled, as he looked at his old portfolio, suddenly wishing he were back in Cairo, or Iraq, or Kosovo.

"I won't lie, she's a bit off...very peculiar, always going on about death and souls and such, but I rather like her."

"I guess I spoke too soon," Syaoran chuckled. Then he turned to Tomoyo, whose shadow was visible as the light from Eriol's room hit her. "Wait, Tomoyo-san, when did you ever meet Sakura? Did you go to the funeral too?"

He just heard her sniff and go, "If you leave that girl, I will seriously hurt you."

Syaoran glared at the shadow. "She left me first."

But Tomoyo, like everyone else, did not listen and left him alone.

* * *

He heard his mother, as well. She seemed very distraught.

"You've grown up without me."

"She was the girl I was going to marry, mother."

"Come back to us, Xiao Lang."

But he didn't want to leave Sakura. Even if it was just her ghost.

* * *

In the dreams he had, she tried to get him to swim with her. Little balls of light followed her around and the stars seemed to love her as they circled around her like a halo. She held on to his hand like a vice grip, but his legs would not let him. Her face would get so disappointed, so he tried harder. He fought for her harder than he's ever done before.

His body moved just one inch, but it made her so happy, so he danced with her.

When he woke up, he screamed and cried, because parting with her was just as bad in dreams as in real life.

He got up, put on his keys and walked out the door.

* * *

It was strange how no one was around, but it made him happy. It was better this way—no one would stop him. As he looked down from the bridge, the water looking dark and other worldly, he stood on the railing. Would it be painful if he drowned? Probably. But that was good. Sakura suffered when she died, so he should as well. Maybe then they could meet in the afterlife. This way, she could never disappear. This way, he could hold her forever.

"Stop it!" he heard a yell. He spun around, and Sakura was crying. He looked at her with mixed resolve, unsure of what to do. "Just please, live!"

"But I want to be with you!" he yelled at her. "I told you before; I don't know what to do without you! I can't be without you!"

"Think of everyone who cares for you! Eriol-sensei, Tomoyo-san, your family..."

"It doesn't matter! They have each other, they'll be fine! I just want you!"

"Think of me! You want to leave me alone?!"

"No! I am doing this for you!"

But she just cried harder. He had never seen her so emotional before. He's never heard her speak this much before.

"If you go, then my soul will never be saved. You cannot leave it so incomplete! Wake up!"

"You're so selfish! Think of my feelings as well!" Syaoran screamed back in agitation. Sakura's hand only reached out for him, her eyes pleading desperately.

"I want you to live, to exist...until I stop existing. So please, wake up!"

Syaoran smiled ruefully. "You're so cruel. I love you so much, and you know it. You know I spoil you."

He took her hand.

* * *

"He's awake!" unfamiliar voices called out. Syaoran had to blink a couple of times. The whole room was bright and white, that he was not sure if he had died and made it to heaven. Well, heaven was a bit too hot. He was sweating profusely.

"Syaoran!" a beautiful voice called to him. He realized then he was laying down, and some mask was on his face. Gingerly, he turned his neck around—which hurt, as if it was the first time doing it—and he saw her. Sakura was looking at him, smiling so happily with her hair askew and lips paled and chapped. She looked as if she hadn't eaten or slept in days, but she could have been worse.

"Sakura...you're alive?"

She smiled even wider, and nurses and doctors rushed to him, saying strange things about stats, and blood pressure, and heartbeat, and brain activity, and gun wound. But whatever, that did not matter.

Sakura was there with him, their hands intertwined, fingers together like vines.

* * *

_**a/n: **all will be explained in the next chapter._

_actually, i thought about how to end this story, and i can't help myself. i am a sucker for happy endings.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Map the Soul_**

**_Chapter Six_**

**_a/n: _**_as you may have noticed, this is the last chapter. Thank you for bearing with me with this story. It is weird and kind of confusing, but I am glad you were all able to enjoy it. This chapter is short (when isn't it short, but this chapter may be the longest in the fic), and wraps things up nicely. Happy reading!_

* * *

According to the doctors, he had been in a coma for nearly two weeks. As it turned out, it was not Sakura who had gotten hit with the bullet, but himself. He was shot in the shoulder, and complication from a wound infection, hypothermia, and shock to the mind and body, he fell into a coma after surgery. Syaoran was advised to take it easy for awhile, which he did. He went to physical therapy, and took a lot of medication. Sakura stayed with him often, keeping herself to the corner of his room. She rarely spoke, and it seemed that dream Sakura was the talkative one.

Eriol came to see him, very ecstatic that he was alive. Sakura had gone out with her brother while the good doctor visited.

"So what was it like, being dead?" Eriol asked him. Syaoran just laughed. It was like Eriol to ask this question.

"Surreal. I was ridiculously lonely. I thought it was her that died." His face sobered up quickly at the memory of that feeling.

"Your pet?" Eriol's eyebrows rose. Syaoran just rolled his eyes.

"So you were right. She's not a pet...she's my..."

"You can say lover, Syaoran. How old are we turning this year?"

"Oh, shut up. How's your model patient?"

"Shut up." Eriol's face flushed.

Syaoran smiled, glad to be alive. He smiled, because he knew now what he wanted to do with his life, now that he realized he had to live it.

"Syaoran, I'm glad you're back."

"It's good to be back."

"But you'll be leaving us soon, won't you?"

Syaoran's eyes widened. He didn't even have to say it. "What makes you say that?"

"Sakura-chan's newest painting is called _Roaming Wolf_. Somehow, she knew even before you did."

It was then that Syaoran wondered how much of dream Sakura was really just a dream.

* * *

"The divorce will be finalized in just a few months. Legally, you are separated, and I can wait. So I don't understand why you won't marry me." Eriol frowned, closing the velvet box. The beautiful model sat elegantly in his office chair, looking very nonchalant about the matter, but Eriol could see that rejecting him did affect her.

"Sensei..."she began before he cut her off.

"Eriol," he corrected. Tomoyo gave him a tiny smile.

"Eriol, I cannot have children," she started. "You will someday want to have children."

"I know what you condition is. I can live with that. We could adopt. Who says I'm ready for kids now, anyway?"

"Someday, you will want one. Not now, but someday. And I really like you, but I myself don't know if I want to settle down right away again. I just got divorced after all."She took a sip of wine; she was the only one Eriol allowed to have alcohol in his office.

"Fine, then don't marry me. Just stay with me. Give us a shot. We can deal with marriage later."

"Eriol, why are you so set on being with me," Tomoyo asked, very hopeful. Eriol just sauntered over to her, his face in front of hers, eyeing her lips hungrily.

"You said it yourself once: our souls are connected to each other. I cannot let you get away."

"I always knew I liked you best," Tomoyo answered lustfully before the good sensei took her lips with his own.

* * *

Sakura was in his home when he was able to return after being in the hospital for a long time. She sensed him come in right away, and ran to him. He didn't get a "hello," or a "welcome back," or even a hug, but instead got a smile. It was a testament to his affection for her, because it was all he needed.

"Did you know, I dreamt about you while I slept?" he told her after he made her dinner. He spoiled her so much. She shook her head, and gave him toothy grin. "You were a little different. You were almost like a ghost. Not to mention you talked. _A lot_. It was a bit freaky."

She put her chopstick down, and sat there in thought for some time that Syaoran wondered if e said something weird.

"The doctor," she finally spoke. "He said that if...if someone talked to you...you would, um, wake up."

She twiddled with her fingers. He walked to her and took her hands in his. Slowly, he brought them to his lips and kissed them.

"I heard you clearly. You brought me back."

Syaoran then picked her up and took her to his room. It would be hours before they stopped.

* * *

"I'm not promising we will be together forever."

"I know."

"I'm not promising that I won't get bored of you."

"Understandable."

"I am also certainly not promising you marriage."

"You've made yourself quite clear on that subject."

"What I am promising you is that I will try. I promise you, that as of this moment, I really like you. I like you the best, after myself. So I will try. That is all you can ask of me."

"Tomoyo-san, that is all I really want right now."

"Then what will you do when I get bored of you?"

"Make it so that you like me best again."

"You're a strange one, sensei."

* * *

After a week, Syaoran had packed his entire belongings and sent most of it to Hong Kong, his hometown. There were only a few large duffel bags of necessary objects left, and Sakura just stood by door, observing him, sitting on the floor where his bed used to be. They didn't talk about his leaving, and he didn't even announce it to anyone other than Eriol. However, he knew that Sakura had known about it before everyone else after all. It was only a matter of time before either one of them addressed it.

"You're going away soon." She commented it very calmly. To others, it was as if she didn't care, but to Syaoran, he could tell that it had taken her time to adjust to the idea.

"Yep. You've inspired me. I am going back to photograph death. I will be in Iraq in about two weeks," he finally let it out. Truth be told, he wanted to go with her following him. He wanted to keep her, and lock her up so that she would always be alive and well, in front of him.

"Are you scared?" she asked, her eyes searching his for the answer. He gave a weak nod.

"Of course. But that won't stop me this time."

She smiled approvingly. "You will exist then."

"Speaking of which," Syaoran noted as he sat in front of her. "You will be alright?"

Sakura just nodded. "Yes."

"You won't come with me, will you?" Syaoran could not help himself, even if he did know the answer. Part of him still hoped otherwise.

"No, I will go home to onii-chan and otou-san. I will paint all the souls that come to me."

"You won't join them will you?" Syaoran only said half-jokingly. But he was still half-serious.

Sakura shook her head again, smiling sincerely. "I promised not to die before you."

He took her hand and intertwined their fingers. "I guess this means I cannot die."

Sakura giggled a little before resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed that way for quite some time. However, they were a part of reality, and reality was often times never as peaceful.

"Sakura, we won't be in contact when I am gone."

"Mm."

"I don't know when I will be back."

"Mm."

"Actually, I can't say if we will even ever see each other."

"Ah."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

She was quiet for such a long time, he wondered if she even heard him. But her soft voice shattered that idea.

"I love you, Syaoran. But everyone has to say goodbye, sometime."

* * *

Li Syaoran was a peculiar man who had a fondness for being right, and to be perceived as a "bad boy." Now that he was thirty-two years old, that bad boy image had been shed, and he had acquired a sort of "rugged man" image that was still popular with women, but one that he did not like as much. In five years, he managed to become a worldwide renowned photographer, often having his work in well-respected magazines such as _TIME _and other international magazines. His poignant pieces of human suffering and death had earned him the nickname, "The Grim Reaper," and he became one of the world's top paid artists in the industry.

Aside from being "The Grim Reaper," he was also a "Casanova," often dating many famous women. Curiously enough though, his relationship never lasted long, and all the women (ever so disappointedly) say that he never bedded them. No one really could fathom as to why.

At the age of thirty-two, Syaoran was in Japan, after a five-year long absence, and was drinking with his best friend and former roommate, Eriol.

"So what's it like, being so famous?" Eriol had asked good-heartedly. Syaoran just gulped down his shot and shook his head from the taste, his longer and messier locks moving elegantly.

"It's so and so. It's a bit inconvenient actually; too many people know who I am. It's harder to get the grittier stuff. I get a lot more hate mail than fan letter, though."

"Must be nice to lead such an interesting life," Eriol commented. His best friend just slapped his back.

"Hate to break it to you, Eriol, but your life isn't too boring. You're the only man I know who still lives and sleeps with his ex-wife."

"I can't help it. Tomoyo wanted the divorce, so I gave it to her. We get along better now that we are no longer married."

"That's weird."

"That's just how it is," he explained. "When we were married—albeit, just one year—we argued and fought. Now, it's as if we just met all over again."

"You two have the most peculiar romance. Someone should make a television drama based of your lives," Syaoran joked. Eriol glared on, but then just rolled his eyes.

"If anyone had a peculiar romance, it was yours and Sakura-chan. I could never really understand it, even if I did set it up."

At this, Syaoran put his shot down and looked at Eriol incredulously. "You set it up? You knew I'd fall for her?"

"Yeah, I counted on having someone care for her well being outside her family. I wanted her to see how her death would affect others. I was not sure if she would fall for you, though. But she did, and it worked out for us all."

Syaoran played around with his glass, trying to find the nerve to ask about her. In the five years he'd been gone, he'd thought about her. He wondered how she was doing, where she was, if she met others. He wondered if she found a new love, and whether she'd forgotten him completely.

"How is she?"

"Alive," Eriol answered bluntly. "She's doing well. She still showed suicidal patterns, but she ultimately was unable to go through with the deed. Whatever it was you did to her worked. She lives alone now—can't tell you how long it took to convince the brother and father to allow her that much. In the end, they've decided to not cut her wings, and let her live life. She's been painting and showcasing her work. Some sold pretty highly."

"You still keep in contact with her?" Syaoran tried to be very cool about it, but Eriol saw through it easily.

"As her doctor, of course I do. She tells me she'd like to go to France soon. Don't misunderstand, she's still a bit odd, and it is like pulling teeth to get a conversation out of her, but she is a weird, peculiar, healthy twenty-five year old girl."

"That's nice," Syaoran was relieved. Eriol smirked, looking at him from his peripheral vision.

"Sakura-chan wants to fall in love, you know. She'd like to get married someday."

It took a few seconds for Syaoran to calm his voice and hand, which shook with some form of anger. "Oh, she hasn't found anyone?"

Eriol's smirk grew more pronounced. "No. There hasn't been anyone who'd been able to handle her."

The other man just finished his next drink. "Is that so."

This was enough for Eriol. He stood up and paid his tab, pulling out a sheet of paper and pen from his pocket as well. After scribbling down something quick, he handed it to Syaoran, placing it in his palm.

"This is her number. Do us all a favor and call her."

The paper shook in Syaoran's palm before he balled his hand into a fist.

"I won't be in Japan long, and if she wants to go to France, then we cannot work."

"Syaoran, just try."

* * *

It took a long time for Syaoran to gather the courage to call her. It rang three times before a voice, a beautiful and familiar voice, answered

"Hello?"

"Sakura?"

She must have been quiet for about ten seconds, but it could have been years to Syaoran.

"Syaoran..."

"You remember me?"

"Mm."

"Sakura...I wanted to...sorry that this is so out of the blue..."

"I promised."

"Pardon."

"I promised not to die before you." There was a hint of mirth in her voice.

Syaoran smiled and his back straightened, his voice filled with more confidence. When he spoke the next few words, he felt his soul dance happily.

"Sakura, can we meet up for a coffee tomorrow. There are things I want to talk to you about."

If he were near her, he'd be able to feel her soul dance too.

"Sure."

* * *

**_a/n: _**_okay, we are done!_

_A couple of things: I said I liked happy endings, so I didn't make Sakura die. I mean, I'm evil, but not that evil._

_However, I cannot say if Syaoran and Sakura will end up together. You, the reader can decide for yourself. I will promise you though, that they will at least **try**. After all, in life, not everything is simple, and we don't always end up with who we think we should. But we can always just try. _

_I hope that in this fic, both Syaoran and Sakura grew a little as characters. I hope so. If not, then I am sorry (haha!). In any case, I hope this fic was able to be a bit different from the others, and made you guys think about things as you read. So thank you for sticking with this until the end._

_As for Tomoyo and Eriol, yes, they married, but then divorced and are still together. I'm sorry; they seem to be another couple that will never be normal. No, they can't have kids, but maybe they'll adopt. You decide.  
_

_And no, there will be no sequel to this, so don't ask me._

_This whole fic was un-beta'd, so sorry for any mistakes. And if you have any question, ask and I will reply, haha  
_

_xoxo_

_Cherrie_


End file.
